


Redrum, Redrum.

by WeeHawken



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: -Me standing in the red Room Hoster Alex tag- My AU, Alex isn't sane but not as crazy as John, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Character Death, Detective James and Thomas, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Heavy gore, Implied/Referenced Suicide, John is crazy, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mental Instability, Murder, Not till later tho, Possessive Behavior, Red Room, Red Room Hoster! Alexander, Slow Burn, Strangers to enemies, The Dark web, Violence, Yay I like to rewrite stories, all over time tho, and then, like boy needs help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-22 03:57:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9582479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeeHawken/pseuds/WeeHawken
Summary: Redrum Redrum do you exist, or are you another dark myth?The deep web could be considered fantasy, or just so hard to locate that those who gave up after trying deemed it such a title, the same title given to unicorns, or pots of gold at the end of rainbows. But no, the deep web didn’t deserve such a title that belonged to fairy tale creatures made for children, for this place wasn’t for children, it wasn’t even for most adults. But it still existed, and it thrived.--REVAMPED version of The Red Room by MooBoo





	1. Old Yellow Bricks.

The body silently crept around the messy room, one hand occupied with a bucket full of water, another holding a dish towel that was a faded pinkish brown, he placed down the bucket and gently tossed the towel inside it, taking a moment to brush back a few strands of unwelcomed hair from his view, pulling the dark tangles into a loose ponytail. He flipped a switch on the wall and a familiar hanging light bulb illuminated the small room, enhancing the features of the worn room, the harsh crimson staining the once pristine silver walls, and the concrete flooring, the wooden chair that was built much like a torture device, metal clasps on the arms rests to keep the struggling victim in place, weiding the small stain of red that basically coated the entire chair. He hesitantly looked down at the cart that sat in front of him and he gently took up a heavy tool, a large pair of curved scissors, one that fit comfortably in the curve of his palm like an old friend. 

He breathed out as he brought up the rag from the bucket and started to wipe clean his instruments of the unforgiving shade of red they were coated in, a feeling of discomofort making him shift on his feet. This was his job, he’d been dragged into it. A kid from the carribean fresh off the boat had to make a little money somehow and being the naive son-of-a-bitch he was, well. Here he was now, cleaning off tools of torture he’d used just to cut off someone’s fingers at the request of a morbid onlooker. George, the person’s name was George and now he was dead thanks to Alexander and the twisted way he earned his money.

‘Survival of the fittest’ He told himself numbly, looking down at the large weapon. The silver glistening weakly in the light from the bulb behind him. He closed his eyes for a moment before placing it down back in it’s original spot and moving on, he really didn’t have to do such a tedious subject as cleaning up after every one of these sessions, but he just couldn’t help but find himself doing it anyways, enjoying the quiet, surprisingly tranquil atmosphere. The silence of the room getting to Alex slightly as he just focuses his mind on cleaning, leaving the room spotless. Nothing more, nothing less. He drops his gaze silently back to the tools, tapping a finger absentmindedly upon the cart, he silently went back to work hoping to leave as soon as possible. 

This was his home away from home, the silver stained walls, the hard floor, the chair in the middle of the room and the precariously sat up camera. He and one other had given this place it’s name. ‘The Lion’s Den.’ That’s what they called it and that’s what it stayed, attracting forbid followers from around the world thanks to it’s popularity as one of the most popular and active sites on the dark web. It’s hard, Alex won’t lie about that. Cleaning up messes night after night, hiding the ‘den’ from snooping officials such as police officers and agents that think locating his little night job will influence their reputation, boosting them to the top of the latter, but had he been found? No. Not yet, hopefully not ever. 

It doesn’t take long for Alexander to finish cleaning the small cubicle of a room. Placing the bucket back in the corner, tossing the rag lazily into it, he turned on his heels snagging up a small messenger bag, slipping it over his head and resting it upon his shoulder. He opened the metal door that led into his den, looking down the sidewalk cautiously before stepping out into the cold air, a small chill running down his spine. He closed the door behind him, made sure it was locked before pulling out his phone from his pocket, reading over the large white numbers that showed themselves. ‘3:23 AM’   
He cursed before he silently took off down the street, heading back to his apartment.

  



	2. One for the road.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas and James have fun with the leftovers and Burr makes an appearance and we find out what's up with him.

This was not how Thomas wanted to spend this monday. James rambling on at his hip about the case they had just been assigned though Thomas’ mind wasn’t set on listening, he could read over it. He glanced over at the shorter out of the corner of his eyes watching him talk for a moment before returning his gaze back to the hallways the two were walking down, heading to the main office of Washington, or as everyone called him in the station ‘The General’.

“ --Everything just doesn’t add up Thomas.”

“Hm?” 

“You weren’t listening, were you?” 

“ No sorry. But what, What doesn’t add up?” 

“This case Thomas. The one we were just assigned by Washington” He states blandly, waving the folder slightly, shoving it in the other’s grasp. He rolled his eyes and silently opened the folder, examining and now listening to the points James made. 

This was a case Thomas and James were forced upon, something in the leftovers pile that the two begrudgingly picked up after exchanging annoyed looks, it gladly was a murder but something with so little information, and zero leads that anything that the two found was quickly proven false, the two had been on his case a little over a month, but as time trailed on more bodies were found, killed in the same style, most with corresponding bruises upon most victims wrists   “Look at this. She’s clearly been tortured.” He points out bruises, emphasis on the two darker purple ones that showed on her wrists.  

“You’re saying it wasn’t a murder? I think the body says otherwise Jimmy.” Thomas retorts lazily shrugging with his words.

“ No, No Thomas. She was murdered. She’s as dead as a doorknob. Just It’s strange. This wasn’t the first body they’ve found in the same condition and I’m wondering--” 

James silenced himself as Thomas and him were stopped by the familiar face of Aaron Burr, a man who hadn’t been in the office for almost months thanks to his undercover investigation in ‘Yorktown’, hovering around the coffee station making a rather small cup. Thomas nudged James gently before approaching the other, slinging an arm around his shoulders, smile on his lips. Burr glanced at the two, sighing through his nose almost surrendering to stop and talk.

“Hello Burr. It’s been quite a long time, hasn’t it?” 

“ Yes. It has Jefferson, Madison. It’s good to see you two.”

“Same to you Burr.” Mumbled James, eyes still upon the case as he was rather disinterested in the conversation. 

“ Why are you back? I thought you still had things to do with the whole Yorktown situation.”

“ Oh, no I’m still there. But don’t you think everybody needs a break from dressing up and playing a role. Not to mention I really needed a break from the boss, He’s got a few screws loose.” he states lamely, forcing a small uninterested shrug into his sentence. 

James and Thomas exchange a slightly nervous look to each other before turning their attention to the case, he silently takes it from James and looks at Aaron. 

“We’ve got a new case and we need a little help. Murders around the area. About four as of now, but there's a pattern. Almost all of them have these bruises around their wrists and we’ve deemed it torture.” He explains to Aaron, showing him a few of the pictures which Burr scans over with disinterest, he hands the pictures back to Thomas and nods. 

“I’ll try to figure it out without drawing any suspicion to myself. A small mention that this person is dragging attention to Yorktown by the fuzz then we’ll for sure know who the guy is.” He nods, turning his attention back to the small steaming cup of coffee he had made previously, he picks it up, nods at the two and turns to leave the two.

“Good luck on your case.”

“You too Burr.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! Thank you for reading this so far everyone!! I'm so happy for all the support !! ;u;   
> -Lin


	3. Crying Lightning.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet the King of Yorktown. And burr is threatened

Yorktown. The biggest black market in New York, anything you need? They've probably got it here, thousands of items pass through here a day, and it's all ruled under the thumb of one John Laurens, or as he preferred to be called 'King Laurens'.

Burr tugged at his vest for a long second before letting out a breath he'd been holding before taking a hesitant step forwards, nodding at the familiar faces the were standing lazily at either side of the makeshift throne for the King of Yorktown.  
He's laying in the chair, legs dangling over the armrest and elbow propped against the one that presses into his back, he sits there not yet acknowledging the man standing before him. King Lauren's wasn't a composed man, he was just the shell of a once great leader, worn away by insanity and instability.  
At this throne sat the leftovers, the man in that familiar white undershirt, black vest and blue tie. Dark hues focusing on a knife in his hands as he flicked it open and closed it in a steady pattern. He stops and sighs, not even bothering to look at burr when he speaks.  
" Are you going to say something or just sit there gawking at me like some sort of child." His words were dropping with hostility and Burr felt a shiver roll down his spine at the tone.  
Burr composed himself quickly, flattening down the purple tie he wore before bowing like any royal subject.  
" My lord." The words come off Burr's tongue empty, he hates addressing this man as such, but he knew what would happen to him if he refused to title him appropriately.  
" I believe we have a problem."  
" oh?" John's Curiosity has clearly been peaked at this suggestion.  
" One detective Jefferson has been put upon the case of the Lion's den and its drawing unwanted attention towards Yorktown. I suggest we do something about this before--"  
John lifts his hand to silence burr and for once Aaron considers to keep talking. He has to bite his tongue to keep himself silent.  
" you're meaning to tell me. That detective Jefferson, correct?"  
A nod.  
" Good. detective has picked up that case and has decided that.. Yorktown has something to do with this?" He questions, lazily waving his hand around, closing his eyes as he nods.  
" Yes my lord."  
" and how do you know this Burr?" He grumbles, furrowing his brows.  
" I've got inside sources my lord. "  
" Seems like I've underestimated your abilities dear Burr. "  
He taps his chin slowly, grinning.  
"It's been some time since I've seen my dear pet. I think he should visit his owner more often. What do you think? "  
Burr stiffly nodded.  
" Then I think it's settled. Go get Lee. He knows where my pet lives. Tell him to bring him back alive. And oh, tell him to take the collar. I would love to see my little pet dressed up for me." He sneers.  
Burr nods and turns to leave, but he's stopped by a shout of his name, he looks over his shoulder back at Laurens who smiles smugly at him,  
" And, my dear Burr. If I find out you're really I'm cahoots with those 'detectives' I think your head on a stick will make a rather nice decoration." He hums.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is short?? I wrote it on my phone.,, but hey!! New character !!

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the revamped story of The Red Room by MooBoo. 
> 
> I recently sat down to finish plotting out this entire story, so now that I have everything fleshed out I can write this story more efficiently and without the long delays between chapters.   
> Comments and Kutos are always welcomed and encouraged since they do keep me writing  
> Criticism is welcomed always
> 
> A lovely thank you to my Beta Testers: Cal Blackwood, BlueBird_Alice, and casthingies from tumblr. I owe them my life
> 
> FOLLOW ME ON TUMBLR: @Memers-World


End file.
